


He knows

by Redhead_Maniac



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Despair, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, the Rickyl is subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redhead_Maniac/pseuds/Redhead_Maniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The group is trapped - there is no exit, not enough arms, they're outnumbered one to twelve. There's nothing they can do, and they decide to make their last moments count. No point in dwelling. After all, they're family. And they will go out like one. But for now, a little lightheartedness and warmness won't hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He knows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gevion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gevion/gifts).



> I'm sorry. It's 1 AM again and I was listening to "Hozier - Sedated" for 3 hrs on repeat.  
> I really hope this ain't OOC.  
> Kudos for the "trapped" idea go to Gevion!

  
_You and I nursing on a poison that never stung_   
_Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it_   
_Somewhere for this, death and guns_   
_We are deaf, we are numb_   
_Free and young and we can feel none of it_   


  
  
They were tapped like rats on a sinking ship. Except, jumping overboard and swimming their way to land wasn't an option for them.  
  
They were locked-in, their escape-rout cut off, outnumbered one to twelve and empty-handed, except for Daryl's trustworthy crossbow and six bullets in the chamber of each pistol they carried. All they had was time, and it was ticking.  
  
The first half-hour was spent screaming obscenities, cursing at everyone and anything within sight and trying to find an exit, a solution. That was three hours ago.  
  
The adrenaline has worn off by now, and as they slumped against the wall, weary and tired, all they could hear was the growling of the walkers on the other side of the door.  
  
"Hey," Rick lowered himself beside Daryl, dropping on the floor with a muffled grunt.  
  
The hunter peeked from under his arm, which he'd been using to effectively shield himself from the world.  
  
His sided stare clearly inquired a biting "What'd' ye want, Sheriff?", which never passed his lips.  
  
Clearing his throat, Rick proceeded to nudge Daryl with his shoulder, "Look, I know that this might be the.."  
  
"You better not start with this crap," the exhaustion in Daryl's growl didn't seem to hinder Rick.  
  
"I know you don't want to hear this Daryl, but please," Rick's gaze was steady. Not stern, neither pleading, but there was something which made the hunter scoff and turn his head just a little more towards the ex-cop.  
  
"These  _are_  the last couple of hours we'll share alive, and you know that. I don't want them to be so..miserable."  
  
Daryl barked out an amused laugh, making little Judith cradled in his left arm fuss in her sleep.  
  
Rick gave him an unimpressed glare.  
  
"What do ya propose, huh? Want me ta find a set of partyhats and make Beth sing "Happy Together"?" the sneer on Daryl's face wasn't degrading, and Rick could see right through it. The hunter had given up and was ashamed of it, of himself. It was as obvious as the fact that none of them were getting out alive.  
  
"No, that would be just dumb."  
  
"Glad ya agree."  
  
The silence settled down like a gauze onto a deep gash. It did nothing for the situation at hand, it didn't cure the grisly festering, but it brought a sense of temporary comfort, if only psychological. Both knew the blood would seep through eventually.  
  
There was no cure. Washington proved to be a mistake, one they were paying for now. There was no future, no hope, nothing.  
  
"Hey, remember that time you threw a hand at that poor Mexican kid?" Rick's raspy voice sliced through the silence and Daryl found himself involuntary chuckling.  
  
"Hell yeah. The look on his face, man!" He lowered his arm from his face completely, looking at Rick with a smirk gracing his thin lips, "Remember when Glenn went red with that stupid fuckin' smile plastered on his face? Fuckin' lightweight."  
  
The ex-cop snickered into his hand, memory flashing back to the moment in CDC.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I remember. And that one time an angry redneck threw a bunch of dead squirrels right in my face. Can't forget that one." He was grinning, a bright glint in his eyes, crow's feet making his weathered face seem softer, gentler for a second.  
  
"Shuddup, was your damn fault anyway," snorted the hunter, unfolding his legs. A light smile stretched his lips, momentarily captivating Rick's gaze.  
  
"So, what do you want to be in the next life?"  
  
"Huh?" completely baffled, Daryl quirked his brow. "You gone mad on me or something?"  
  
"Nah, just remembered guys dropping a few words about your Zen," Rick admitted, tilting his head and looking at his sleeping daughter cradled safely in the hunter's arms.  
  
"Seriously? I ain't no buddhist if that's what you're asking, man."  
  
"What then?"  
  
Daryl shrugged, "You just die, and that's it. No light at the end of the tunnel, don't get reborn as a flower and for fuckin' sure don't go to no Heaven."  
  
Rick dwelled on his words, giving a slow nod, "Guess that makes sense. Didn't pin you for the religious type anyway," his easy grin made Daryl roll his eyes.  
  
"The fuck are we doing, Rick?"  
  
"Enjoying ourselves."  
  
And that was it. The talk came easy, the topics they brought up lighthearted, laced with jokes and reminiscence of the old times, when parts of their initial group were still alive.  
  
Eventually Maggie drifted back to the land of wakeful, joining in on the conversation and dragging Abraham into it as well. The rest kept silent for most of the time, listening to their friends with a smile and quipping a word or two when they had something to add.  
  
"Hey, Carl," the boy looked up from his corner, staring at Daryl from under the rim of his hat. "C'mere."  
  
There was a clear question in the kid's eyes as he got up and shuffled over to Daryl. He was the only one with a blank-faced expression and who didn't say a word to participate in the ongoing conversation. It was obvious the kid was brooding, and while it was a reasonable reaction to their current situation, Daryl couldn't brush it off. Kid needed more comfort than anybody else in the room.  
  
"C'mon, sit."  
  
Cautiously, Carl lowered in front of Daryl. Rick gave the latter a puzzled frown, unclear of the hunter's intentions.  
  
"Look, kid, I know it ain't a perfect situation, and honestly, there's nuthin' ta be cheerful about, but.. Might as well make the best of it, as your dad said, yeah?"  
  
The glare burned a hole in Daryl's forehead, but he didn't back up. Instead, he gripped the kid by the nape of his neck and pulled him roughly forward, making Carl release an undignified squeal and fall into Daryl's chest, bracing his arms on the hunter's shoulders so as not to squish Little Asskicker.  
  
At first, the boy remained frozen, shocked by the unexpected action and completely lost. Sure, his dad pulled him into hugs, but Daryl? Carl never saw the man hug  _anybody_.  
  
"We're family, right, kid?"  
  
Carl nodded.  
  
"So we go out as one. Your dad loves ya, Mags and Glenn too. Heck, everyone I know here." Daryl pressed his forehead together with Carl's, looking directly at him.   
  
"Ya ain't alone, kid. And ya ain't gotta be."  
  
It was painfully awkward for Daryl to utter those words, but it was definitely worth it as Carl's brow smoothed out and he hid his face in the hunter's neck, concealing a stifled sob only Daryl could feel.  
  
"'s alright little man."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Good."  
  
For a while all the group could hear was Carl's laboured breathing as he desperately tried to compose himself. Then, out of the blue, "So.. We should share things we want to say, yeah?"  
  
"What kinda things?" Maggie's pensive voice drifted over the dark room.  
  
"Like the ones we never had the chance to say. Like mom actually did."  
  
Rick tensed at the mention of Lori, a quick pang making the pain bloom in his chest, but then Daryl's gruff voice brought him from under the waves.  
  
"You got something?"  
  
"No, but I think you do."  
  
Daryl slitted his eyes in hesitation, his words coming out slow and measured, "Like what?"  
  
"You never told dad that you like him."  
  
Everyone in the room audibly held their breaths, Tara lowering her eyes to the side, Abraham blinking and scratching the back of his head, while Maggie and Glenn exchanged glances and stared at a stock-still Rick. Every person in the room was expecting Daryl to get on the defensive and lash out or make an awkward retreat and switch the topic.  
  
However, to their surprise, Daryl huffed out a laugh and looked straight at their leader, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a hybrid of a smirk and a smile, as if he couldn't pick one.  
  
"He knows."  
  
And the way Daryl kept Rick's steady gaze, the quirk of his lips growing sharper until it blossomed into a full-blown, unreserved smile, spoke more than words ever did.


End file.
